Holding on to what I Wish is You
by Gaymemequeenmarceline
Summary: "It's not like she's the only thing I hate. I just hate her the most."
1. Chapter 1

It was cold the day it happened. Cold and rainy. The kind of rain that soaks your clothes and makes you miserable and soggy. And by soggy, I mean inside and out. You eyes get all droopy, and so do your spirits. Maybe that's why it seemed like such a bad day too. Well besides what happened. The rain was dying down a bit, and I wanted to go out for a walk. My family said they'd drive to the park to pick me up for dinner. We were going to go out; like any normal family would in this small town. The grass was wet. It was almost enough to get to my socks and soak them too. I kicked a puddle here and there, almost expecting to kick the bad weather away with the drops of water. I shook my head and shoved my hands in my pockets. This was dumb. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Finn running in my direction. He skidded to a stop spraying me with water that had covered his long blond hair. I was too tired to worry why he was rushing.

"Hey, you heard right? There was a car crash on the bridge. One of the cars fell over." Finn said, his voice loud and deep.

"Are they okay?" I asked, worry filling my gut. I'd have to call my parents, they wouldn't have the bridge open for them to come get me. Finn shrugged his shoulders.

"My dad just called to have me help pick up the scraps. The car on the bridge is completely totaled. I think my dad said that group was okay, though." He said. I hoped the car that fell didn't contain people I knew. Finn finally decided he couldn't stand there anymore and took off jogging past me. I pulled out my phone and dialed my home number. It ringed three times with no answer. They probably already left. I remembered then that Cherry was heading off to university today. She had just gotten her drivers license, and it could've been her in one of the cars. I tried my home number again, no answer. I turned around, curiosity getting the better of me. In a small town, you best know what's going on or you have nothing to talk about. I starting jogging a bit, maybe I could get there when my parents did and catch a ride home with them. I still had mid terms to study for. It was only Saturday, but two days of studying is better than one. The bridge had been closed off, and Finn's dad was there with his pick up, towing the smashed car away. To my relief, it wasn't Cherry's. I ran up to Finn, who was kicking scraps into a pile.

"Dos you find out who the others were?" I asked, almost nervously.

"No, nobody saw to car go down. The family wasn't conscious so we couldn't ask them. My uncle is searching the river for the car and, well.. You know." I nodded and looked around for my mom and dad. Maybe my sister. She was usually at home though, didn't come out much. I furrowed my brow upon noticing their absence.

"Have you seen my parents? Or my sister?" I asked Finn, who was kicking the bridge.

"Hate to say I haven't." Finn replied.

"Did they stop at that diner down the road from here?" Finn asked.

"In not sure. I could call." I said.

"Nah, one of the cars hit cell line back there, phones won't pick up." He muttered, distracted by all the scrap metal he was examining.

"Alright. Let me know if they come by. You're welcome to join us when you're done!" I yelled over my shoulder, jogging to the dinner. It wasn't far, about three minutes run from the bridge. I saw the broken sign in the distance, and slowed my pace a bit. I didn't see the car. I opened the front door and glanced around. Nobody was there. Almost everyone was at the bridge. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Nancy, the cook walk up to the counter.

"Hey Nancy. Have you seen my folks around?" I asked.

"Not recently dear." She replied sweetly.

"Oh. Well thanks." I waved and left, dragging my feet now. Did they ditch me and go to the boardwalk or something? I headed home, my pace slow. When I finally got to my front door, I found it locked. Odd. The only time we locked the door was when we were going to be in town for a while. I shrugged, walked around back, and crawled into my window, a familiar practice with me. I didn't sneak out often, but when I did the window was my way out, and my way in. The house was dark, not even my sister was home. I shook my head, still in awe as to where they were. Oh well, I suppose. I can wait for them to get home I guess. I went to my room and sat down on my bed. I wanted to read, but something in me couldn't lift up a book. Instead I grabbed my cello, crossed my legs on my bed and sat it up so I could play it with my bow. I didn't know much, but it was fun to play whatever I wanted. My bow glided over the strings and my hands moved side to side and up and down on the fret board. The soft sound of my cello filled the room, calming the little bit of anxiety I had. I lost myself in the sound of the instrument, the music becoming alive, enchanting me with its grace and movement. I heard something hit the window a while later, not noticing how long I had been playing. Nearly two hours.

"Yo, Bethabell!" It was Finn. He was the only one who called me that. My first name was Elizabeth, and my middle, Bonnibell, so he took the liberty to smash them together. I stood up and leaned out the window.

"Wassup." I asked, staring down at Finn who had a hand full of pebbles. He waved weakly.

"Come on. You gotta see something." He said. His voice was heavy with something. I didn't know what it was.

"Can I wait until my parents come back?" I asked. Finn hesitated for a second.

"Let's just go. They won't mind." He whispered. I shrugged and climd out the window, landing on the grass with a thud. Finn walked in front of me, not holding a conversation. It wasn't typical of him.

"You okay, Finn?" I asked, setting a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's just, go Elizabeth." He replied. Nobody ever called me by my first name. I shook my head at the thought and kept walking behind him.

"We found the car." He whispered. I nodded.

"Did you know them?" I asked, sympathetically.

"Yes." He rasped out, dryly, starkly.

"We only found two bodies." He continued. "They're, dead. They didn't drown, they were killed from impact." He said.

"Who were they?" I asked. Finn stiffened.

"Do I know them?" I tried again.

"Yes." He replied. I saw the car on the river bank now. It was a red truck, just like my dads.

"That looks exactly like my dads truck." I commented. Finn kept waking.

"Finn. Who was it?" I asked, my stomach dropping when he didn't answer. I then saw the unmistakable homemade shoes of my sister. I stopped.

"F-Finn?" I asked, my voice high in pitch, but soft. He murmured a small sorry, and turned away.

"Why are you sorry Finn?" I asked, tears already pouring down my face.

"Why are you sorry..." I said, my knees giving out.

"Why..." I whispered, hugging my legs to my chest. I felt a hand on my shoulder, a firm strong hand. Jake.

"Hey, I'm sorry sweetheart." He whispered. I looked up at him, and felt his strong arms pull me off the ground and into his arms. He was probably taking me to his house, he wouldn't let me sleep alone in mine. I pressed my face into his shoulder and cried. I wailed and bunched jakes shirt up in my hands. I felt so little and helpless. I opened my mouth and let out a cry of desperation now, Jake hugged me tighter to his chest.

"Jake... It's. It's not fair." I cried. Jake only nodded sorrowfully. I felt him walk up some stairs and heard a door open.

"You can stay here for as long as you like. You know that okay?" He layed me down on the couch and patted my back. I wanted to go back, and say goodbye to my family. I pushed my shoes hastily off my feet and flipped them onto the couch. I hid my face in the pillow and cried. I cried and cried and cried. I felt a soft paw on my face and turned to see B-moe, Jake's cat. I lifted them up and onto my lap. They rubbed under my chin and flicked their tail. I rubbed the soft black fur on its belly, a purr coming from inside the cats chest. I smiled and hugged B-moe. Cats always help. They licked my hand and jumped away, leaving behind black hairs. It was eleven now, and the sky was very dark. I sighed and rolled over, waiting for sleep to take me away from this awful, twisted reality. It never came.


	2. Chapter 2

(MARCELINE'S P.O.V.)

I couldn't call it a tragedy when the car slammed into mine. I couldn't call it bad luck when the steering where was shoved into my chest as my legs were crushed from the front of my car caving in on me. I couldn't lean back to see if my brother was okay. I couldn't do anything. All I could do was watch as a guy with black hair struggled to move his hand to his wife's before he helplessly fell back to his seat. I could tell by the weird way he was laying, that he had just died in front of me. I didn't want to let my eyes wander back to the woman sitting next to him. I struggled to move to call to my brother, but blood escaped my lips when I opened them. I coughed and sputtered trying to breath again. It was becoming increasingly difficult. My eyes flicked to the left as the red truck tilted, shook, and fell into the river. I wanted to reach out and grab it, to magically pull it back on the bridge. I felt my lungs burning and I finally felt my vision blacken.

The bright white light of what I presumed to be a hospital, flooded my eyes and burned them. I blinked and looked around, my doubt subsiding. It was a hospital. I moved my hand, then my arm, and then tried my legs. Nope. Toes? Nope. I reached my hand over, pressing the nurse call button. With my experience in the I.C.U, I'd become and expert patient. I saw a nurse wobble in, trying to carry far to many things at once. He sat them down in a table, and turned to me.

"Good afternoon. How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Besides the fact I can't move my legs, I'm great. Peachy." I replied. The nurse shook his head. I decided then I wasn't letting them think I was some weak little runt. It was better to just pretend I didn't care right? Not about the people I basically killed because of my recklessness. Not about my brother who was somewhere alone in the hospital, probably scared and confused.

"They've both been broken, as well as your pelvis, two ribs, not to mention the three you fractured, a collapsed lung, and a broken nose. We fixed that already. Sorry if it's sore." The nurse mumbled.

"Nah, it's cool." I assured.

"So, where's you home? You don't live here." He said.

"I don't have a home anymore. Or a family." I replied sharply.

"Oh. Is, is there a way for you to pay? If not I could cover it for you." He offered. I nearly choked.

"You'd do that?" I asked, startled.

"Well yeah. You'd have to pay back somehow, volunteer or walk my dog or something, but yeah." He said.

"I uh, have sixty dollars on me?" I offered.

"Well, I think you should keep it. Think of this as a welcoming gift. Besides its not that expensive, I work here after all." With that he left the room. He left me alone with my thoughts. They were dangerous things sometimes. I licked my lips, blood still in my mouth. I hated that taste. Every time I got a fist to the face. Every time I fell of my skateboard. Every time I bit my lip, holding off some remark or comment. I stared at the corner of the room, like I was waiting for something to pop up there.

"Hey." I heard a girls voice say. The girl was tall, taller than me, and her short red hair was combed in a way that made it look almost like a flame.

"Uh, hi." I said back.

"Your passenger, they passed away." She said. I could tell she's been crying. I bit my lip, tasting blood right away. Don't let them see you cry. Don't let them see you cry. I repeated the line in my head.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, before turning and leaving.

"Great way to wake up. Great." I bit back tears. It's not real. If it's real I'd be crying. They're lying to me.

"He's not dead." I said out loud, to prove it. And I think I believed it. I sighed and ran my hand in circles on the bed. I never should have brought him with me. The lights in the room flickered and faded out, leaving it dark.

"Sorry, powers out again. It'll be on in a sec!" A voice called from outside my room. I settled into the darkness, the unknowing oblivious feeling of it washing over me. I sighed, almost in relief this time. I glanced at the clock above the door. One in the afternoon. I flicked my arm down to the side of the bed, surprised to feel my bass under my hand. I lifted it onto my lap with a little more effort than I'd like to admit. The instrument was unharmed by the crash. I wish it was my brother, not my bass. I looked at the floor and sat the bass up on its side on my thigh. My fingers rested on the strings and plucked a few notes. Perfectly in tune. I hummed a bit, but eventually gave up due to the pain in my chest. I settled instead on playing a soft tune I forgot the name to. Music could always make me feel better. Despite my numb state, the music somehow settled nerves I didn't know I had. Eventually my hands grew tired and I layed the bass across my lap. I leaned back. The soft pillows hardly supported me, but they were comfortable enough for a hospital. I shut my eyes, forcing my body to sleep. I was good at this. Usually. The pain in my body postponed my nap by quite longer than I would have liked, but I eventually did fall asleep, expecting tormenting dreams awaiting me, as always.

A/N bro what the fuck even made you want to say that? Thanks I guess. For reviewing. Also, fuck you.


	3. Chapter 3

I was still at Jake's place; it had been two days now since the accident. Jake said he was looking into buying the house for me, but I told him he probably shouldn't. I heard that the other person from the accident was still in the hospital, and their brother died. I felt bad for them, but something in me still felt bitter over the whole thing. It was their fault, wasn't it? They were the one who pushed my dads truck off the bridge. Of corse, it wasn't on purpose, but how can you have no bitter feelings over someone who killed your parents? I know it's pointless to feel angry, or sad. My parents always told me that it's a waste of time, because we can't change the past. It was true really, what was the point? People die, and that's that. The thing is though, I didn't just loose my mother like Finn. I didn't loose a brother like the person from the accident. I lost my entire family. I know Jake's like my family, but it's obviously not the same. I pushed myself off the couch, in a half hearted attempt to push myself away from my thoughts as well. Jake had left around an hour ago, he worked at the diner on weekdays. Yeah weekdays. I wasn't going to my school for the rest of the year. I was transferring. I only had less then a semester left of my senior year, but Jake said it was important to get every drop of education I could. The school was only a few miles from my old one, so it wasn't a big problem. Jake told me I should go to the hospital to consolidate the person who basically killed my parents. He said they were pretty messed up, which I expect, but why was that my problem? He acted like they were some dog I had to take of. Jake was taking care of me, though, and I was going wether I liked it or not. I slipped one of Jake's jackets on and my thick tennis shoes. It was pretty cold, and I didn't want to freeze on my way to the hospital. I pushed open the door and stepped onto the damp sidewalk. It was an overcast sky, dreary and grey. It was actually very fitting to my current state of mind. I can't believe I'm going to apologize for something I couldn't control. Much less to the person who killed my parents. I kicked the ground, letting the word roll around in my head a bit. Killed them. They're dead. Dead.

"Dead." I said. The word felt odd, like running your tongue over your gum, where there was once a tooth. I spit on the ground, trying to spit the feeling of the word out. I shook my head and focused on walking. A few minutes later I stopped at the front doors to the hospital. It was a small building, it used to be a gas station, or so my father told me. I politely waved at Mabel, the lady who worked the front desk. It must be horribly boring. Nobody ever comes in here unless it's an emergency. She smiled at me.

"Here to see the poor lass I assume?" She asked. So it's a girl.

"Yeah. Room two I'm guessing?" I said. She nodded and I walked over to the shut door. I almost left; I mean Jake would understand, the door was shut and she might not want visitors. But curiosity got the better of me.

"Ah, Bonnibell, you know curiosity did kill the cat." I mumbled my fathers favorite quote. I knocked on the door, and a weak voice rasped out a barely decipherable "come in". I pushed open the door, my eyes immediately flicking to the bed." But curiosity brought it back". I said internally. A young girl, maybe a year older than me was in the cheap hospital bed. Her dark hair was underneath her like a blanket. Both of her legs were in casts, her hips were in a brace of some sort and her chest had been wrapped tightly with bandages. Her tired face was covered in cuts and scratches, and a bandage was on top of her nose, and long strip of medical tape held it there, providing evidence of a broken nose. Her eyes were heavy and red, I knew she had been crying. Her hands rested in her chest, and they too were covered in scratches and cuts. Her wrists as well were covered in cuts, but a different kind than the rest. They were orderly, in perfect rows, and nearly all the same length. I grabbed my own arm, but brought my hand back to my side. Before I could speak, the girl did for me.

"What brings you here? Do I know you?" She asked. Her voice didn't fit her. Behind the wheezy sound, it was sweet and gentle. She was a murderer. They don't have voices like that.

"No. My parents were also in the accident." I said. Her face contorted into an expression of guilt and pain, and her hands balled into fists.

"I killed them." She whispered. I was about to nod.

"I killed my little brother. I nearly killed myself. I killed my own family." She mumbled.

"I left them, they were murdered. I left them to get away from him and he killed them. I killed them. I ran away. I was driving too fast. I was scared. And I killed them. My brother. Your family." She was hyperventilating. Despite my prior judgment of this girl, my heart immediately went out to her. As much as I despised her for killing my parents, I pitied her. No. It wasn't pity. It was empathy.

"It's... It's not your fault." The words fell off my tongue before I could catch them.

The girl wiped her eyes and shook her head.

"Yes it is. You know it is. If I was just more logical. If I just tried to think instead of always running, everyone would be alive."

"No, no. It's really not your fault."

"Don't lie to me." She whispered. "I don't need you to soften blow." I blinked, the sudden coldness in her voice grabbing my throat and choking the words out of me. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault. If it's not then who's is it?" She spoke, her voice soft again.

"Nobody's." I mumbled.

"You know that's a lie."

"Do you know what the butterfly effect is?" I asked. She shook her head.

"It's like this. Let's say some crazy engineer in France accidentally released two much water vapor into the air when building a misting fan. It made a storm, and by the time the storm was developed enough for it to rain, it was here. So it started raining. Say the rain made it hard to see. And so a car accident. Who's fault was that? Bob the crazy engineer." I concluded. She girl smiled slightly, but shook her head. Perhaps a few moments could change my mind, but not hers. My own smile faltered. I let my hands slide into my pockets and sighed.

"Well, nice chat anyway. I hope to see you better soon." I whispered. The girl gave me a smile so fake it nearly hurt to not walk over and pull her into an obviously much needed hug. I sighed and smiled back at her, turned, and left. I shut the door and waved to Mabel before leaving the hospital, heading back to Jake's.


	4. Chapter 4

The quiet of the hospital after the girl left was killing me. I hated the silence. It was a rare occurrence for my radios to be off, or for my headphones to be in my pocket rather than my ears. Several times I almost asked if I could go see my brother. It was such an odd thing, the way I felt. I wasn't saddened, but something in me hurt rather bad. It told me he wasn't gone, but at the same time blamed me for him being gone. It was confusing, and I was in turmoil.

I wasn't allowed out of the hospital for another two days, and even then I was supposed to keep a low profile and avoid strenuous activity. Two entire days, alone in a hospital bed. Well, almost alone. Guilt, Self Loathing, Depression, Anxiety; you know, the whole crew was chilling out with me too. The only thing that broke the silence was Finn occasionally checking in on me, that one girl who had visited just once, and my bass. Finn was kind enough to let me use his friend Jake's amp, with Jake's permission of course. Usually, I wouldn't accept such things, because then people expect you to be their best friend and be nice and polite to you. You know, return the favor. But I needed to hear the soft sound of the electric instrument to make it through the the day. I don't know where I'd be without music. Not that my current predicament was all that great, mind you, but the one I could be in was much worse, I assume. The point is, staring at the white ceiling of that hospital would have driven me insane. It wasn't very long after my visitor left that I decided to sleep. There wasn't much else I could do, I was rather bored of the bass at the moment, and my eyes were still set above the dark bags below them. I was exhausted.

Like the nights before, I had a heavy dreamless slumber.

"Hey! Marceline!" A voice came from the door way, forcing my eyes to open. I glanced over to see Finn, and the same girl from yesterday. Great. More time for a pity party. After I murdered her parents. I sighed, and Finn must have thought it was from exhaustion.

"Don't worry, you'll get your naps," he remarked, leaving the doorway. I sat up in bed, my back and chest aching from the action.

"Hello." I said, trying to sound as polite as my current state could muster.

"Hello," she replied, voice far sweeter than mine.

"Why'd you come back? Did you forget something?" I asked bluntly, my voice testing.

"I, uh... Yes. I forgot to ask your name," she said. I internally rolled my eyes.

"It's Marceline." I told her. I think she almost smiled.

"I think it's polite for you to tell me yours as well?" I offered.

"Bonnibell. Everyone calls me Bonnibell." She said.

"Everyone calls you that?" I questioned.

"My first name is Elizabeth," she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets. I smirked, wishing I didn't like Bonnibell as much as I did; I could tell she hated her first name and I wanted to call her that over the latter.

"Well, Bonnie," I said, already deciding on a nick name, "I think I should rest. If that's alright with you?" I was taunting now. She furrowed her eyebrows at the nickname, like she was tasting a food for the first time.

"That name is...lazy and distasteful," she remarked. I laughed and rolled over on my side to stop her from trying to talk to me, ignoring any further attempts anyone tried. I heard her scoff, and a pair of footsteps left the room.

It was easy to forget I had killed her parents with my truck, with the way she acted. It was almost funny, how it seemed that she forgave me. It seemed.

I could tell that, deep in her gut, she loathed me.

I flipped back over, staring out the door. Something was off about her. She acts like someone she's not, and it's tragically easy to tell. Almost painfully obvious really. Maybe it's just easy for me to see, but she's broken. I've always been good at reading people, and Bonnibell is nothing special. Just another case of pushing on, being the strong one, for no reason besides the lighter weight on everyone else's shoulders. I sighed and looked over at the bag of blood by my bed. It was connected to a tube that was pushed inside my arm. It was the last bag I was getting, finally. I felt dead inside from my immune system trying to fight it off. Not to mention the broken...well, everything.

I still couldn't really move my legs, but I could feel them, and Finn said I would be able to walk perfectly fine as soon as they healed. My ribs would be fine. I'd broken ribs before. Besides the pain, I guess there wasn't much to worry about. I had been off morphine for a few days now, due to expenses, and the pills seemed to work pretty well for me. The emotional damage is far worse. I can't really describe what I'm feeling, at least not in one word. It's anxiety, loneliness, fear, depression, grief- All on the list of reasons to get the hell away from here, but I also wanted to stay. It was all mixing together to make the worst cocktail of emotion I could think of.

That girl.

I can't say I disliked her, I can't say her personality is bad. I'm not saying those because I don't think them - I do - it's because I killed her family. You can't be a shit person to someone after you murder their relatives. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. They were dry and tired from the past few days. I almost hoped someone would stop in before I fell asleep, but as the hours dragged on, it became evident most of the staff and volunteers had gone home. By eleven that night, I gave up on consciousness and opted for sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't long before I was back at the hospital, the next day actually. There was something that drew me to her, Marceline that is. Something about the way my name rolled off her tongue, and her slight city accent. Or maybe it was her harsh and hostile attitude. You'd be ready to fight her one minute, but the next you'd be about to cradle her in your arms. But whatever it was, it was suffocating. She's like a bad habit I suppose. Something you really like, despite how bad it is for you. The point is, I went back, so here I am. My spirits felt up. I wasn't sure if I was distracting myself with Marceline, or I was actually genuinely interested in her. I guess it doesn't matter because either way I was here. The hospital was empty besides Marceline, so it must have been rather lonely for her. Finn said she had been asking about her brother a couple of times, and he thought it to be dramatic grief or even PTSD. He said I shouldn't bring him up, so I didn't.

Back to the point. The front desk was occupied by the same person as usual, and no one else. There was a handful of nurses and Finn was going to be here. I headed down the hall, intent on finding Finn. The fourth door on the left was Finn's, so I knocked on it. No answer. I knocked again, and still no answer.

"He won't be back for a while," someone called from out front. I lowered my hand and looked around. Should I stay? I shrugged and walked out to the front again.

"Here to see Marceline again?" The lady at the front desk asked.

"Yes ma'am." I replied.

"Jut knock on her door yourself, Finn is not her overseer, and visiting hours are all day. Go for it." I shrugged, guessing it was probably okay. I headed over to her door and knocked.

"Is the Fintom menace out there?" She called through the door.

"No, it's me." I said back.

"...Who is 'me?'" She asked.

"Oh right right; Bonnibell." I answered.

"Come on in, milady," she said. I rolled my eyes and opened the door.

The room was cold, like any other hospital I suppose. Marceline was looking better. The small cuts and bruises on her face were nearly gone, and her eyes had some sort of rebellious, lively light to them versus the dull ones I saw last time.

"Uh, hi." I said.

"Are we making this a routine, princess?" She asked, her voice light and teasing.

"I can go..." I offered, suddenly feeling sick and anxious.

"Woah, I was just fucking with you," she said, her voice suddenly less joking. She sensed the mood. "How about we do something other than talk for today, okay?" She offered.

"Like what?" I asked, watching Marceline pick up her guitar, or bass or whatever it was, and set it on her lap.

"Can you sing?" She asked, glancing up at me while tuning her instrument.

"I, uh, not...not really." I mumbled, my hands finding my pockets.

"Yeah, right. Someone like you always knows how to sing. And let me guess, you play violin or piano or something?" She said, looking back down to tune again.

"Cello, actually." I said.

"Cool instrument." She remarked, not looking up.

"Now, I'll ask this: Do you want to sing? I kinda missing playing with my band." She said.

"I could...try?" I offered.

"Tsk, tsk. 'I suppose you you could try,' but I wouldn't want you to break a nail, your highness," She teased. I knew it was just a challenge, a bet. I took the bait anyway.

"What should I sing?" I said, my voice confident now. I saw Marceline smirk, and look up at me.

"What would you like to sing? Name it off and I'll say if I know it." She offered. I furrowed my brow and looked down at the ground.

"Well, I'd naturally assume you wouldn't like country music?" She shook her head. "Maybe... Do you know the band All Time Low?" I asked.

"Vaguely." She said. I shook my head, suddenly forget all the music I listened to.

"Bring Me The Horizon?" I offered.

"Ah, there you go." She said, snapping and smiling.

"So, what song?" I asked.

"You're the princess, you pick."

I became flustered for a moment. It was almost like Marceline was just toying with me. I shook my head.

"No, you pick it. I picked the band." I said.

"Fair enough, Bonnie." She shrugged. "How familiar are you with...'Drown?'" She suggested. Shamefully enough, it was one of my favorite songs.

"Yeah. Yeah I know the lyrics." I said.

"Cool. Now, do you want to sing it? I'll play this hunk of junk with you." She said, gesturing to her four stringed instrument. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I mean, I'm not that good at, uh, singing." I mumbled.

"Doesn't matter princess. You just have to think you're good." She said. I rolled my eyes and moved my hands to wrap around my side.

"I suppose I could give it a shot." I offered. I saw Marceline smile and nod in agreement.

"I'll start it off."

For about two hours, we played at least eleven songs. Like usual, I lost myself in them. The time flew by, and I realized I needed to get home to Jake. Marceline lost herself in her bass, shutting her eyes as if the notes painted a picture in her brain each time they rang out in the room. I didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to, Jake would worry.

"Thanks for visiting, princess, though I must warn you, I'm out of here tomorrow." She said.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"A hotel maybe?" She replied.

"Oh." I wasn't sure if I liked that.

"Well, um, we haven't sold my house yet, you're welcome to stay there if you want?" I suggested.

"I'll sleep on it, princess." She aimed finger guns at me and and I felt the oddest sensation bubble in my stomach and buzz in my throat. I laughed. I hadn't noticed how long it had been since it happened last, but it seemed forever ago. It felt nice.

"I'll see you later Marceline."

"Ah, wait. One more thing. Do you think someone in town could give me a ride to wherever I'm going? Could you just ask them to get me? I'm not allowed to drive myself after... Yeah, could you just ask around?" She said, her voice suddenly weak.

"I, uh, yeah yeah, I will," I said, turning And waking for the front doors.

She's a drug. I thought.

A drug that I'm Infatuated with.

(A/N sorry bout that, got the chapter all fixed up. Thanks for betaing.)


	6. Chapter 6

The pleasant buzz of freedom sat in my chest. Well, partial freedom, at least. I was finally cleared to leave. Finn pushed my wheelchair to the front desk and signed some papers. He was still keeping to his word of covering the expenses. I'm still not sure how I can make it up to him. He says community work, volunteering once in a while. I know that eventually it might be squared money-wise, but not equal in the generosity and selflessness. Finn said Jake was going to drive me to Bonnie's old house, and they weren't exactly giving me a say in the matter. He had a large car, and if I had seen it driving down a road, I'd have walked the other way. I was worried Jake would have the same appearance. Finn finished the papers and wheeled me out to the only car in the parking lot.

"Where do you and the nurses park?" I asked him.

"We usually walk," he replied. I shrugged. That made sense I guess. He parked my chair at the passenger door and knocked on the tinted window. I watched it roll down and Finn waved.

"Why, hello" someone, I'm assuming Jake, said.

"Jake, seriously, you look like a kidnapper in this thing." Finn remarked.

"You wanted a big car and I have the biggest car." He remarked.

"Yeah, a big car for stealing children." Finn teased.

"You're right," Jake sighed, his voice full of mock-sadness, "You're not really my cousin. I stole you from your family and sold you to your father." I almost laughed. I liked Jake. Finn helped me stand up and opened the door for me. That's when I first got a glance at Jake; he had long hair, a dirty blonde color, and his eyes looked so much like a dogs' I could have sworn he was a werewolf. They were this dark brown that had a gentleness to them.

"Hello, Marceline, right?" he asked.

"You got it. And you're Jake?" I said, struggling to position myself in the seat.

"Actually, no. My name's Ricardo; Finn's selling you to me and I'm using you for science tests on vampires," he said. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Kid, I'm just joking." He laughed.

"Oh, yeah, I'm just a bit tired still. Sorry if I doze off in the car," I laughed, a bit more uncertainly than I meant.

"Well, hey, no problem, just don't fall asleep during testing." This time I laughed at his joke, settling into the car and the atmosphere within it.

Treat Marceline nice, Jake. And Marceline, don't bite," Finn joked as he walked away.

Jake saluted Finn and called out after him "Will-do, Colonel."

The car rolled out of the parking lot and into the road, headed to Bonnie's house, or rather, her parents' house. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced down at the center of the dashboard, searching for an old enemy of mine.

"Jake, you don't happen to have a smoke, do you?" I asked. His eyes widened a bit.

"I, uh..."

"Just haven't had one in a while; miss it, you know?"

"Yeah yeah, I have some old ones. Glove box," he mumbled. I opened the drop down door and two packs of a brand I wasn't familiar with were there. I grabbed a box, flipped open the lid, and pulled a cigarette out. Jake let me use the blue lighter that was sitting on the dash. I lit the end of the cigarette and gripped it in my teeth. After a while the smolder took. I inhaled just enough to feel my throat want to reject the air, and exhaled out my nose.

"Thanks, Jake," I said.

"Hey, no prob. We all have our off days," he replied. I rolled the window down and tried to keep the smoke heading out that way, rather than in Jake's direction.

A few minutes later we pulled into a driveway that lead to a rather good-sized tannish house. Jake walked around the car and opened the door, and I stood up with his aid and got into the wheelchair. The cigarette was on its last dying breaths now.

"Jake, you wanna stomp it out for me?" I asked.

"Yeah, I gotcha." He snubbed out the embers, then seemed to remember something, "Um, I have to run to the pharmacy to get your pills, Finn said he'd text me what you were taking. Let me check..." Jake dug though his pocket to find his phone. He found it, then read off the list he'd been given, "Tylenol; he said every four hours to take the amount it says on the bottle. And the medication for your nebulizer - don't ask me how to pronounce that bullshit - and antidepressants."

"Antidepressants?" I questioned.

"Well, he said they're optional, so I'll pick them up just in case." He pushed me to the front door and knocked. I furrowed my brow a bit; did he expect Bonnie's parents to answer or something? Did he forget, or was he just in denial-

"Sorry, Jake! I didn't see you two pull in!" Bonnie's voice rang out from behind the door before it was pushed all the way open.

"No problem, dear. I've got the special delivery for you. I'll be back with her meds in a while," he said.

"Thanks Jake, it's so kind of you to drive her here," she said sweetly.

"You'll be in the care of Elizabeth here for the next few weeks, or until you can get around on your own." Jake said, saying her name with overloaded reverence. I was not amused by it, or by this whole situation.

"No, this...was not part of the agreement. You said I would be alone...Well, you didn't say that but I assumed that..." I growled at Bonnie, tripping over my words in frustration, sounding less angry and more...vulnerable.

"Marceline, don't be dense, you can't take care of yourself like this," she remarked, nodding in my general direction.

"You just gestured to all of me." I deadpanned.

"Precisely." She quipped. I rolled my eyes and clicked my tongue. It's going to be a long, long recovery. Bonnie walked outside and pushed me in the house. I tried to wave to Jake, but I don't think he saw me.

"Bye Jake!" I called over my shoulder. I saw Bonnie wave to him and shut the door.

"You can sleep in my bedroom, it's the only one you can get to with the ramp," she said, pointing to what was very obviously set of stairs. Stairs are not ramps. She pushed the chair in front of the steps and stopped it, reached over to a brown lever that looked like a lowercase 'E', and pulled it. The stairs flicked down and lined up perfectly to make - you guessed it - a ramp. Bonnie walked behind me and began pushing me up to the next level. She seemed to be putting almost no effort into it.

"So, here we are. That's the bathroom, my room, and the closet," she said, pointing to each accordingly.

"You'll be sleeping here," she stated, pushing me into her bedroom. Now, before I say anything, if you saw this room, you would understand. It looked like a unicorn vomited on the walls and the ceiling, and fluffy magic deer were skinned and layed on the bed. And the pink. Everything was pink. The pillows, the wall, ceiling, the rugs, the door, the dresser, Everything.

"Sorry it's kinda bright at first. There's a TV over there if you get bored, and a plug-in over there for...whatever you need to plug in. We don't have to pay for electric here, it runs off of Phoebe's power from the generator." I nodded, and she grinned; a successful tour.

She added some more notes like she was reading from flash cards,

"Let's see, what else; bathroom down the hall - you know how to use a bathroom - if you need anything from the store let me know. I know you don't really have any clothes to wear besides the ones from when you came here, so I layed out a sweater and some pants. They're grey, don't worry." Her assurance was coy but cute.

"Thanks. Do you mind if I sleep for a bit?" I asked, my eyes were suddenly droopy and heavy.

"Of course not, go ahead... What's that smell?" She asked, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the room.

"Jake's car, it smelled like smoke when I got in. Must have stuck to me," I shrugged.

"Yeah, Jake did smoke when he drove that thing. Creepy-ass car. I'll leave you to it then. Just let me know if you need anything."

"Yeah. Thanks, y'know, for letting me stay." I said.

"Hey, it's no problem." She assured, walking over and helping me into the bed. After I was up, I pretty much did the rest. The bed was soft and warm.

"Thanks, I'll be getting some shut-eye then," I said. More or less shooing her away.

"Oh, yeah, right," she said backing away curtly, "You can just text my cell when you wake up, my father's phone is over there." She pointed to a flip phone on the side table.

"Oh, um, thanks," I mumbled. Bonnie finally turned and left. I tried to roll on my side in the bed, but it was too awkward. Bonnie's ceiling had stars stuck up on it, I'm guessing from childhood. I glanced over at the clock by her bed to see it was only two in the afternoon. I guess it didn't matter when I slept. I let my eyelids droop, but just laid there a while, not sleeping, but thinking. Eventually, sleep finally found my way.

(thans for fixing my dad sad writing.)


	7. Chapter 7

The inside of the car was neat and tidy, and in the very back seat I saw a small boy. His hair was messy and short, the bangs ending just above his eyebrows. He had bright green eyes, like mine. When he noticed me, he flashed me a grin, and opened the back door. I watched him walk around the car and over to me. My legs should have been shaking, trembling, my knees should have gave out by now. He reached a small hand out to mine. Cold.

"Marceline." He whispered, his voice was so happy it was sickening. I backed away, shaking my head.

"It's not your fault." He called after me, continuing to walk forward.

"No." I cried, and my legs suddenly felt very heavy. I fell backwards. The little boy's face contorted into something from a horror movie. His kind green eyes were now a burning red, and the happy smile was now a grimace of what looked like pain. Blood ran down his neck, starting from where a shard of glass was protruding from his skin. His soft skin was rough, scratched, and bleeding. The smell was still too sweet. He stood in front of me and lifted his hand to touch mine. I pulled away, but he grabbed it with his small, wounded palm.

"It's not your fault!" He screeched.

I jolted awake, my mouth open in a silent scream. I let my head fall back into to pillow, trying to regulate my breathing. I had kicked my blanket off the bed sometime during the dream, and I wasn't in any mood to reach down to the underside of the bed. I brought my legs to the side, ignoring the searing pain the position caused in my ribs and neck. I grabbed the bed sheets, still trying to ground myself to reality. I heard footsteps heading to my door, and despite knowing it was a dream I feared it was that little boy with my eyes. A figure knocked at my doorway, even though the door was open.

"Come in." I muttered, still shaking and laying in the best fetal position I could pull off.

"What happened?" Bonnie's voice asked. I shook my head.

"Can I turn the light on?" She asked.

"Yeah." I replied. The sudden brightness of the room forced me to shut my eyes.

"Oh fuck." I opened my eyes upon hearing the girl swear and looked over.

"You seem to be bleeding." She said, walking over to my bed. Well, hers actually.

"Where?" I asked, finally settling down from the dream. She knelt down and grabbed a tissue from the nightstand.

"Your nose." She handed me a tissue, and I brought it up to my face and back down. Sure enough, blood. It made me sick. I've always been faint of blood, and the dream I just had didn't help. I licked my lips, the metallic taste filling my mouth. I coughed at the sensation, spitting blood into the tissue. I tried to sit up, but caused a tiny twist in my back. I felt Bonnie slide an arm behind me and push me upwards, and then it was gone. I hadn't noticed how cold I was until I felt the heat from Bonnie's arm on my back. I reached for another tissue, but Bonnie was already getting one. She handed it to me and I lifted it up to my nose to stop the blood.

"Why were you yelling?" She asked, finally deciding I was okay and settling into the position she had on the floor.

"Bad dream is all," I muttered.

"Oh..." She said, her shoulders shrugging. There was an awkward moment of silence.

"Do you...want to talk about it?" She asked. I shrugged.

"Kinda... Not really," I muttered, quieter than the first time. Another awkward pause.

"So..." She sighed.

"So." I replied in a much less open-ended fashion. The silence was so thick I swear you could've cut it with a knife. Bonnie readjusted on the floor and we stared at each other for another minute.

"So uh, hey... I'm not trying to get into your business... Okay, this is actually what I'm doing...but who's Marshall?" She asked. A sudden pain in my stomach radiated to my jaw and eyes, making me cry. It was a intoxicating and heavy, like strong liquor. Everything kind of blurred out, but I could feel Bonnie's hand on my stomach. I think she's trying to push me back down on the bed. I let my arms give out and flopped on the pillow. I felt myself calm down, unsure of what happened. It was probably due to not taking my pain meds yet.

"Sorry I asked. You don't have to say anything." Bonnie murmured, hand still on my stomach. That's weird. I don't remember her asking anything.

"You... asked something?" I questioned. I saw Bonnie mouth open like she was about to talk, but she shut it and her face contorted in worry.

"I'm going to call the doctor over, okay?" Bonnie said.

"Why? Is something wrong?" I asked, becoming even more confused.

"Yes, Marceline." She confirmed.

"What is it? Am I bleeding again?" I said, sitting up and looking around for blood.

"No, Marceline. It's your memory." She mumbled, her hand rubbing circles in my stomach now. I laid back down, staring at the ceiling. I remember everything though. I was in a car accident after running from home, Bonnie's parents were killed... And I got moved here until I'm well. Bonnie lifted her hand away from my stomach and I immediately missed the contact. She reached for the cell phone on the night stand and dialed a number.

"Hello? Yes this is Elizabeth, the one helping in the care of Marceline. Yes. I have some concerns about her health though... No, nothing like that, her memory seems to be...I don't know, it seems she had memory loss. Yes, of course." I watched Bonnie put the phone on speaker.

"Marceline?" It was Finn.

"Hey Finn." I replied.

"I need you to answer some questions for me." He stated.

"Alright, but I've never really been good at tests, my man."

I heard him chuckle.

"What's your full name?" He asked first.

"Marceline Beatrix Abadeer."

"Good... Birthday?"

"November 3rd."

"Okay, so you have any siblings, or did you have any?"

"No sir." There was a silence after this.

"Do you remember what your truck looked like?"

"You mean before I busted it to millions of pieces? Yeah, it was red."

"Okay, do you remember the name Marshall?" Something pulled tightly in my gut at that question.

"I... No." I replied.

"Alright. Thank you, Marceline." Bubblegum turned the phone off speaker and went into the other room.

BONNIES' P.O.V.

"What do you mean it's not memory loss? What is it then?" I whispered into the phone, worry overtaking my mind.

"It's the PTSD. It's a lot worse than I thought. See if you can get her in... I'm not great at psychology, but I can help her." Finn said.

"Oh Glob... I completely forgot. Jake mentioned it to me. I'm so sorry for calling you so late..." I mumbled in embarrassment.

"'Glob?' What is that?" Finn laughed.

"I don't know! I just say it instead of actually swearing. My parents used to lose it if I swore." I replied, slightly agitated.

"Hey, chill Elizabeth. Look, take it easy with conversations. Try not to bring up her family, or even the accident if you can. I know you're curious, but it's best for her. You know you could always bring her back and I could take over for you," he suggested. I shifted against the wall I was leaning against and glanced in at Marceline, who had picked up a book to read.

"No, it's fine. She couldn't survive another day at that hospital."

"Alright. Just bring her in then. Tomorrow any time will work, actually. If that works for you, I mean."

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, moving back into the hallway.

"Alright, thanks for calling." Finn said, switching from Serious Doctor-mode to his usual chipper self.

"Yeah, thank you as well."

I hung up the phone and walked back into the room. Marceline put the book down.

"So?" She asked.

"Okay, here's the gist of it: PTSD. Do you know what that is?" I asked.

"Yes, Bonnie, I'm not stupid, okay? Maybe it seems like it, the way I lay around..." I rolled my eyes at her remark.

"He thinks it has something to do with the accident and what happened. He thinks it's PTSD." I clarified.

"Oh... Okay." She murmured, looking down. Her nose wrinkled up and she huffed.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered.

"For what?" I asked, taken aback by the words. I sat on the side of the bed and crossed my legs.

"For being such a nuisance." She said softly.

"Marceline, no. What are you talking about?" I asked, my hand going to her stomach instinctively.

"I woke you at eleven at night because my head is fucked up. Bonnie, my head is so fucked up you have no idea." She tried to sneak a laugh into that last part for solidarity, but was crying now. Her chest was shaking and she was shaking her head.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm messed up too. We're all messed up in our own ways." I assured.

"No, Bonnie. I'm really fucked up. I've done bad bad things... Bonnie, I've..." She let out a huff and rubbed the palm of her hand on her eye.

"I don't care about the bad things you've done."

"No...no, I do. I'm the same as I was before, Bonnie. I'm a bad person. I do bad things to feel better...or to feel nothing." I felt something breaking in Marceline. Possibly her constant ability to seem...optimistic? Perhaps that could be the word.

"Marceline, calm down. It's okay. It's okay to do bad things." I whispered. "I do bad things too, sometimes."

"Stop. Stop, please. I don't want pity. If you didn't feel bad for me... If you new what I was talking about you'd kick me out and run away from me..." Now both of her eyes were closed, "Ugh, Bonnie, you have no idea..." Marceline was still crying and refused to look up from the bed.

"Marceline... It's not pity, it's empathy." I said, my hand landing on top of hers now.

"Please...don't." She cried, her voice cracking.

"Marceline, I want to help..." I begged.

Marceline seemed to repeat herself but it was barely intelligible now, her hand grabbing into mine.

"Marceline..." I whimpered, coming closer to crying myself at this point. Something hardened on the surface of the bedridden girl; she wasn't completely recovered, but she had found an emotional second wind.

She sniffed, calming down, "I just want a friend right now... Not a councilor or a mentor. Just, lay here with me. Please."

"I'm... I'm Sorry," I replied, laying down next to Marceline. I felt her slip her fingers through mine so they interlaced.

"I miss them," she cried, "I feel so bad, Bonnie. Complaining about my family and my...my brother. When your entire family is dead... I still have my parents. You must hurt too." She was crying again.

"Shh. It's okay. Of course I hurt. We both do. We can just hurt together, okay?" I suggested, running a hand through Marceline's hair. Something about the lighting in the room made me realize how...elegant she looked, despite the patchy redness of her face and eyes from crying. She was beautiful. I lifted her hand to my lips and gently kissed it. It seemed weird, bonding with someone so quickly. She just...clicked. We clicked, I guess, in a broken sort of way. It seemed like that to me, at least.

We fell asleep like that, hands locked, turning away from our pain and instead facing each other.

A/N: another huge thanks to the beta of the story, Mr. Snarks. He adds so much to this story, and I don't know where I'd be without him.


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